


Problems of vision

by Aradam



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23927401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aradam/pseuds/Aradam
Summary: When Khadgar -and others- made him understand that he has no control over anything.
Relationships: Khadgar/Illidan Stormrage
Kudos: 42





	Problems of vision

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here is my second story about Illidan and Khadgar :)  
> Hope you will like it... Again, English isn't my first language! Thanks a million time to my peach for correcting this... 
> 
> Anyway enjoy, and do not hesitate to left a comment =)

Sitting cross-legged facing the sea, motionless despite the violence of the wind that hit him, Illidan was meditating. At least, that's what he had claimed to be left alone. However, he was not thinking of a new way to reach Kil'Jaeden, Sargeras or any other lieutenant of the Burning Legion. Nor was he trying to increase his power by sucking up the miserable souls that floated around him.  
He was… Breathing. Listening. Tasting. Appreciating more than reasons every puff of salty air entering his lungs. Because he had lungs. Organs. A body. He was alive again... After spending ten thousand years locked up by his own brother in a prison nine strides long, where he could neither eat despite hunger, nor drink despite thirst, nor sleep despite a sleep that weighed down each of his steps... After being torn from his mortal envelope by ignorant champions. After wandering in a ghostly form for years... After all these trials, he had finally found his body and his freedom. In view of the war he heard in the distance and the air saturated with fel magic, he suspected that he was not going to enjoy it for long... 

So he had given himself a few hours of peace, to appreciate what he would surely have to sacrifice again. A voice in the distance broke away from the others before disappearing through a portal, sending a shiver down his spine and disturbing him more than he should. He knew his moment of peace was over when his heart sank to the point of hurting him. He had already known that. He had already suffered because of this.  
Love. This useless feeling.  
He was the stupidest of the elves... Tyrande had rejected him for his brother, looked at him with pity, condescension, horror... Then hadn't looked at him at all. For ten thousand years. Finally, he had felt this traitor of hope at the bottom of his heart when she came to free him to... Reject him again, disgusted by his new powers and his appearance. He had definitely sealed his heart by then, rejecting everything he had felt so far. Even though he had felt rejected again, when she and his own brother refused to come to see him, he knew that he no longer loved her that way and that he would never love anyone again. 

At least, that was before seeing a certain mage casting spells without any apparent effort on the battlefield. Before hearing his laughter, listening to his jokes that only made him laugh, feeling his look without animosity, seeing the respect that his Illidari had for him and the exasperation of the champions for those strange missions he gave to them… Before to meet Khadgar.  
He had realized the risk too late: his heart had already fall for him. He didn't know what was worse: falling in love in just two weeks with a naive human or that Velen had realized it BEFORE him. The old draenei had started talking to him about it in a serious conversation about the Legion, catching him off guard. Not knowing how to react, he had decided to fly away. Literally.  
Abandoning the pretences and his meditation posture, Illidan took his head in his hands, hiding his crimson cheeks at the same time, taking a moment of weakness away from everyone. Since his shameful flight, he had avoided being alone with Velen by using more cowardly ploys than the others: pretexting a mental call from one of his Illidari, hiding, talking to someone else (he had done it only once and the poor human guard had almost died of a heart attack). What bothered him about it was that Velen and Khadgar were the only two people who normally acted with him. The others were only reproaches, mistrust, hatred and fear. He therefore fled from the only two souls in this world, which could have been pleasant with him. He really had a problem with social interactions... 

He suddenly felt the space not far from him distort: someone came through a portal. Kayn certainly. His second had asked him for an interview to report in detail what was happening on board of the Fel Hammer. He found it a little strange, since they had other means of communication, but Kayn had been rather insistent. He sighed and didn't bother to get up. 

"I’m sorry to interrupt you in full meditation, but the prophet Velen let imply that you had a problem with my magic..." 

He tried not to let anything appear, but several emotions crossed his mind at a mad speed, making him almost tremble. He was not used to feel so many things in such a short time: fear, joy, apprehension, betrayal - Kayn and Velen were going to hear it - joy again. He wanted to regain his composure and started to get up but Khadgar - because it was him - rushed over and sat down next to him, raising a hand. 

"No, no, stay still. It is quite rare to enjoy a quiet moment like this, so let’s rest at the same time.”

Illidan swore silently against the sympathy of the mage, disappointed that he could not hide his lack of confidence in this situation and in himself behind his impressive size. 

"I ... very well." 

He decided not to speak too much to avoid ridiculous stuttering or other embarrassing words he might say. A small silence took place quickly cut by the kind, powerful and naive mage. 

"So what is the problem with my magic?" he asked, almost worried.

Again, Illidan swore silently in Elven, Demonic, and all the languages he had learned through the ages. Magic problem? HIM? Velen and Kayn were really going to pay for it. Especially Kayn. His mind was spinning at full speed, trying to find a valid excuse for this pathetic invention of the two traitors - and after that it was he who was called a betrayer, seriously? 

"I... don't... don't see your magic well. I mean, it obscures my vision and it's... Trouble. Around.” 

He congratulated himself: no one except his Illidari understood how their eyes worked - or lack of eyes. Khadgar had no way of verifying the veracity of his words, except if he asked Kayn or the others directly. If his second betrayed him again he would really get angry. 

"Oh. It's... Complicated,” said Khadgar, rubbing his chin. “Can you try to explain it to me?”

Explain... How could he only explain what he saw? His vision was no longer confined to physical barriers: he saw ahead, next, behind him and further than any creature present on this planet. He did not really see by the way, but felt the magic. Life. Each living being, each vegetation, each breeze of wind, each drop of rain contained magic and he saw them all. Each spell casts was like a flash of light in a dark night for him. Each people able to master and use magic looked like torches with bright flames and each one had its own colour.  
And Khadgar ... Khadgar was magnificent in his eyes. The most beautiful of all. Magic was one with him, illuminating each vein in his body, each of his movements, from his entire body to the smallest strand of hair, passing through each eyelash. Even though his clothes somewhat obscured the whole, he could see that most of his magic came from his heart, sending small waves of power with each beat to the rest of his body. Watching Khadgar, watching his magic at work, listening to his heart, feeling that calm and controlled power so close to him was ... Relaxing. Pleasant. Beautiful. So many feelings he was not used to feel. He suddenly felt dizzy, as well as an excess of courage, and stretched out his hands, wishing to share these feelings and his vision of the world to the mage, who turned all his convictions upside down... 

"You better get away from him, Khadgar. It is never good to stay so close to the traitor.”

Maiev. The well-being he had felt until then flew away and became hatred. A deep and visceral hatred that brought back memories he tried to hide: hunger, pain, fear, abandonment, injustice... His cage with its walls that seemed to tighten little by little each passing day. Time flowing without him having the slightest notion. A low growl rose from the depths of his womb and the fel magic that filled his body suddenly amplified, swelling his wings. He deployed them and flew away abruptly, overturning Khadgar in the process. 

Far away in the sky, the wind and the cold for only company, he cursed himself and wondered how he could have let himself go this way. Too focused on Khadgar, he hadn't even heard the warden approach. He looked at his sharp-clawed hands and sneered: she was right. It was not good to let anyone approach him, and especially not a human like Khadgar, who did not know corruption, who was right and almost pure. 

"Why did you run away like that?" 

The voice in his head caught him off guard and broke the steady rhythm of his wings, plunging him into the void for a short time before he regained his senses and his balance. In front of him a raven was flying, fighting against the wind to keep its stability.  
It was not right. He was a hunter and yet three times in just a few minutes he felt like he was a prey. His rage increased and he flew higher, giving a warning growl to the raven who had dared to follow him. 

"Illidan wait, Maiev is gone and I asked her to stop... AH FUCK, THE WIND IS..." 

The words faded and Illidan found himself alone in his head again. It was true that the wind was violent at this height, he himself was struggling to resist, so a little raven ... He went down a bit, scanned the surroundings and quickly spotted the bird that seemed to be in the midst of headwinds, struggling fiercely to hold its wings in place. He looked at him for a few seconds then decided to come to his aid, admiring all this magic concentrated in such a small thing. He stood in front of him, offering him a shelter thanks to his wings and his body. 

"Thank you," an exhausted voice whispered in his head. “It is really not easy to communicate with you.”  
“I didn't ask..." 

He sighed mentally, shook his head and gave up the fight. He was tired of always fighting. It had been a week and three days since he had slept, and all these contradictory feelings and these complex situations did not help his fatigue. Defeated even though the conversation itself hadn't started, he motioned for the mage to come down and headed for the place they had just left. 

"No," said the voice of the mage, so soft in his tortured mind, "let's go to my quarters so we won’t be disturbed again. You will have to sit down, I'm afraid the roof is not high enough for your height.”

Undecided, Illidan watched the raven move away. Feeling the presence of the wardden not far from him, he decided to follow Khadgar in a groan, feeling that the world was once again against him and that he was not really in control of his own decisions. A sort of annoyance rose inside him, annoyance that increased sharply as his horns moved the top of the human's tent. There was hardly room for his imposing hooves on the ground full of books and trinkets of all kinds.  
Khadgar - now a human - made a simple gesture with his hand and a few things were put away in a corner, releasing a cushion where Illidan understood that he had to sit down. A few seconds later, the mage imitated him and cross-legged in front of him, locking the sides of his tent so that no one disturbed them again. 

"Well,” said the human, smiling naively without realizing that his smile had the effect of a spell powerful enough to shake the master of the Illidari, “here we are finally quiet. You were going to try to explain this concern with my magic to me, before we were interrupted. I must admit that I am really curious… ”

Interrupted by the warden and the hatred she felt towards him because he had injured Jarod Shadowsong ten thousand years ago. This brother she had later almost killed, and then who unfortunately came to save her from the Legion. The elves really had problems when it touched siblings, he wondered if there was at least one normal family among his race.  
Ancient race. He was no longer like them.  
Chasing away his negative thoughts, Illidan focus on Khadgar. Before being interrupted, he had almost shown what he saw to the mage. Finally, exposing him to fel magic was not a good idea, he hadn't even bothered to ask for the concerned person's consent.  
A slight laugh in front of him make him raised his lack of eyebrows. 

"Are you... making fun of me" he asked, ready to groan again.  
“It's just that everyone has always described you as a monster, a madman, an elf ready for anything for the slightest bit of power. Only... You are like everyone else in the end. You can be surprised, afraid, angry, upset and go sulking in the clouds or just get lost in your thoughts. I am convinced that everyone has the right to a second chance, and even those who have succumbed to fel magic can get back on the right track.”

He knew he had accomplished things that many considered "bad." That everyone - except his almost faithful Illidari - thought he was corrupt. That they expected him to fall into madness and side with the Legion. It made him feel strange that Khadgar thought differently from the others. His annoyance went away as quickly as it had come and he relaxed a little. The mage offered him a glass of water and Illidan watched with delight a few particles of the magic of the human being deposited in the liquid, giving it a unique aspect. He accepted the glass and enjoyed a long sip. 

"Let's go back to our murlocs," said Khadgar as the demon hunter winced at the thought of these disgusting creatures. “What is this concern?”

A dilemma arose in Illidan's mind: should he tell the truth or take advantage of the situation? Without the slightest hesitation, he chooses to profit. After all, was he not what many considered a bad person? 

"I don't perceive your magic like the others’," he began, congratulating himself on saying a bit of truth. “It is… complicated to explain with words but when you use it my vision is found… disturbed.”

Again, this was just the strict truth. 

"Oh ... does it only work for one category of spells or for everything?"  
“All. From the smallest enchantment to the most imposing portals. However... It troubles me more when you're close.” 

Illidan blamed himself for a few seconds of this lie, but soon put his guilt behind a desire that surpassed everything else: to be as close to Khadgar as possible. He was afraid of those strange feelings that troubled him, but at the same time wanted to feel them. Everything was confused in his head, but he knew that if he had the slightest chance of touching Khadgar then he would grab it...

The human in front of him began to think, his magic fluttering gently inside him as he rubbed his budding beard with his thin fingers. Illidan said nothing, enjoying the silence and focusing his vision on Khadgar, recording every single detail of his person in his mind to come back to it later. 

"Unfortunately, I'm not as specialized in fel magic as you are," he said with an unconscious shiver. “But let us try to unravel this enigma, perhaps that will lead us to find solutions for other problems.” 

The Illidari master remained silent, trying to hide his disappointment at the obvious reaction of disgust at the mention of fel magic. He was really stupid. He really had to think for a moment that the human had ... Accepted? Enjoyed? It was one of the worst thoughts he had had in... 

"If I do that, you don't see what I do or it is ... Blur? I'm sorry, I don't see which objectives to use to describe what you see.” 

While speaking, Khadgar had just traced a rune floating in the air, right under his nose. His negative thoughts vanished like snow in the sun and he immersed himself in the multitude of shapes, colours and sensations that emanated from this simple rune. He had never been so close to this magic and he knew he would find it hard to do without it. It was... warm, beautiful, positive, it was like the human. Never had any magic - apart from that of Sargeras or the Well - had done this to him.  
He suddenly had a doubt... What he felt... Was it really love? Or just physical attraction? 

"So?" asked the impatient mage.  
“I see blur, this is what comes closest to what I feel at least”, he replied, regaining his composure.  
“May I… ?” 

Completely blind to the trouble he was creating, Khadgar reached out an hand and made a gesture to grab Illidan's. Still, the demon hunter wondered how long someone had touched him with no intention of killing or injuring him. He himself did not know the answer. So when the gloved hand of the human took his he gritted his teeth, holding back a sigh or a cry, he knew nothing about it. His heart quickened and a strange heat rose to the end of his ears. Without suspecting for a second the sensations that invaded Illidan, the mage traced a rune in the palm of the elf and asked naively if the problem was still there. 

Illidan said to himself that, definitively, the problem was still there. Imposing and almost vibrant. And it took up all the space in his pants. 

Violent, debauched night images with some of his Illidari fill his mind, forcing him to concentrate to not undress the poor human in the second. Memories made his tattoos glow, reminders of his nights awakening his demonic impulses. 

He then realized that none he felt from the beginning was love. It was just a physical attraction to Khadgar and his magic. He felt relieved because the solution to his problem was now obvious: all he had to do is to satisfy his desire or be sure that he could not, in order to get rid of it and to be able to focus again on the most important one. That is to say: the destruction of the Burning Legion. Not a little love that would distract him to the point of being surprised by Velen, Maïev and the “little love” in question ...

The trembling of Khadgar's hand against his own made him regain some control over himself, giving him an idea for after... 

"It's still just as cloudy, but I think I have a lead.”  
“Ah? What is it?”, asked the very naive Khadgar, withdrawing his hand from his. 

Illidan couldn't suppress a smile when he explained his lead. 

"Maybe if you take off your glove ... He seems to be very enchanted. Maybe that's what troubles me.” 

Frowning, the mage removed his glove and took his hand in his. A wave of desire again made the elf's ears flinch, when he closed his fingers around the pale and fragile skin of his opposite.  
Illidan was playing a dangerous game. He knew it but he did not move back and even went so far as to stroke his soft palm with his thumb, brushing it with his claw.  
He was now sure that it was only attraction. An attraction for an overpowered mage with intoxicating magic. Not love as he had felt it before. That was it, and it was very good that way. 

What would follow next, allowing him to refocus on the end of the Legion, was now obvious: Khadgar would reject him, disgusted, and he would comfort himself in the arms of an Illidari able to withstand his assaults - Kayn for example, just because he had dared to lie to him - then everything would resume its course normally.  
Facing him, Khadgar seemed troubled but not completely determined to push him away yet. His eyebrows kept moving, his lips were so tight that they seemed to have disappeared and his magic stirred in all directions, escaping even a little through the pores of his skin. Intoxicated and wishing that this torture would stop as soon as possible, otherwise he was going to answer for nothing, Illidan issued an ultimatum in a voice even hoarser than usual. 

"It's much better. We should try to remove the rest to verify my theory.” 

The magic in Khadgar ceased all movement and the hand in his shivered. However, the human did not move. Illidan's mouth went dry and he wondered what Khadgar was waiting for to run away from him. 

It was at this very moment that he realized that humans were truly creatures that no one could ever control, and whose actions were the most unpredictable. 

Khadgar's magic swelled up, swirling around and inside him as he removed his hand from his and began to take off his clothes. If he had had eyes, he would have opened them like never before.  
His prediction and his plan having failed - again - he immediately set up another one: satisfy his strange desire for this deadly creature, then forget it and concentrate on the Legion. Perfect plan and easily achievable. 

"You’re sure... You know what is going to happen, right?” 

Khadgar stopped all movements before smiling and Illidan felt a little stupid: why was he asking this kind of question at that time, while the human could still change his mind? 

The mage finishes removing his jacket while responding, his little mischievous smile still present on his face.

"I know very well what will follow... It's nice to worry. I... It's been a while since I was waiting for an opportunity like this...”

He then sits on him, his chest a few inches from his, his legs around his hips. Even as a tailor as he was and despite his imposing belt, Illidan knew that Khadgar had felt his crotch through their clothes. The thrill that had gone through it was proof.  
The elf hadn't moved yet, leaving his hands along his legs, his fingers compulsively clutching his own thighs while the human had wrapped his arms around his neck. The magic and the intoxicating power against him filled all his senses and he didn't know how he managed not to lose the little control he still had. 

"I just have one last question ... Is there any risk with your magic?" 

For the first time, Khadgar looked a little less confident. Illidan could not blame him, his question was legitimate. 

"If I had been a typical demon hunter and you a farmer, there would be enormous risks. But I don't have demon in me. No small inner voices dictating my conduct to me. There is only my magic amplified and modified by Sargeras. And you...”

Finally he allowed himself to touch the fruit of his thoughts and stroked with the tips of his claws the spine exposed, a bestial groan rolling in the back of his throat. He brought his mouth to the offered neck and gently licked the beating carotid, like a carnivore enjoying the killing of his future meal. 

"You," he continued in a voice hoarse with desire, "you are so much more than any human..." 

A discreet moan echoed in the silent tent while his more than willing prey tilted its head, definitely giving it to him. Still not turning back from the luck he had, Illidan finally gave free rein to his desires and breathed in full lungs the air saturated with the magic of human, imbued with its unique flavour and power.  
He imagined what happened next: the torn clothes, the bites, the raw excitement, the heat of the other, his cries, his wet mouth tight around his vibrating member, his hips hitting the buttocks of the one who offered himself to him, lust and violence mixed ... A night like he had lived in the company of his Illidari.

As he lost himself in his memories, Khadgar pressed his nose to his cheek, hesitating. Then he gently put his lips on his and started kissing him in a way... Totally different from what he used to do.  
His lips were soft. Hot. Their taste delightfully enhanced by this touch of magic that made his head spin. He didn't want to bite them, he didn't want to feel the blood on his tongue. He just wanted ... He didn't know anymore. So he let the human lead a kiss that he considered strange without pushing him away.  
When the mage began to gently stroke his chest while continuing to press his lips against his and his desire increased, he knew he had a problem. He wanted to regain control of the situation, regain the bestiality he was used to and forced his tongue into Khadgar's mouth. The human had the indecency to push a kind of meow before disturbing him again. Always with as much sweetness, he stroked his tongue with his, going so far as to suck on it while continuing to touch the rest of his body with his warm hands. Illidan was now completely lost. He had never wanted someone so much and yet he... 

"If you keep thinking so much you risk missing out a lot of things," Khadgar said in the hollow of his ear while biting his lobe. 

He wasn't completely wrong, but could he really let go? And if... 

"Illidan, please..." 

His name whispered with such envy ends up convincing him. He chased his doubts deep into his brain and focused on the strange sensations that the mage made him discover. He changed their position and lay down next to him on a bed, quickly cleared of books and clothes, folding his wings behind him so as not to be embarrassed.  
Immediately, Khadgar glued to him for his greatest happiness, kissing him again. As the wet sounds of their kiss invaded the small space, Illidan set off to discover the body against him. He gently touched the neck, the shoulders, noticing in the corner of his head that the collarbone seemed to be a tender point, descended along the ribs, passed over his stomach, drew with his claw the contours of the small line of hairs which led to the pants of the mage who seemed to melt under his touching.  
The master of demon hunters surprised himself: he wanted him so much, so wanted to enter him… And yet he took his time. 

What was the spell Khadgar had cast on him? 

The human suddenly began to rub languidly against him in rhythm with their still dense kiss. Their tongues waltzed together in either mouth or even in the open air. Neither of them seemed to be disgusted by the drool running down their chin in view of their respective erections, although only half hidden by their thick clothes. Illidan took off a bit and removed his belt with a small wave of his hand, not really caring where it landed. He then glued back to the mage and moved his hips against his, sighing when the two prominences behind the fabrics met. 

"Illidan... Please... Your mouth..." 

The mage seemed to really appreciate their kisses... Delighted, he obeyed the more than urgent request and invaded the warm lair of his tongue again, somewhat surprised that Khadgar has not yet choked on his size or that his lips have not yet cut against his teeth. The kiss continued, again and again, as the movements of their hips accelerated. Illidan no longer knew what to focus on: the heat in the hollow of his kidneys, the groans of the human so surprising, his hands caressing his chest, the skin so sensitive under his palm, the sensation of his locked tongue caressed by another or the friction of the clothes against his member?  
The hands suddenly left his chest and went down, quickly opening the two pants still oddly present. Khadgar took out their two imprisoned dicks, groaning in concert with him when his skin came into contact with his member, almost screaming when he stuck them together before applying soft but firm back and forth. His two hands perfectly surrounded their sweating yards and the new sensation made him completely turn his head. 

They continued for a few moments, then Illidan decided to test how much the mage seemed to like his tongue… He cut their kiss, put him on his back and placed himself above him, between his legs, while telling him to continue what he was doing with his hands. He took a few seconds to appreciate what he saw, including the new color that magic had taken on the human. The picture and the sensations he felt were sublime. Magnificent. He almost blamed himself for not taking more time to record the intense moment he was living, but his tongue seemed to be missing so much to the mage… 

One of his hands continued to hold it over a decidedly expressive Khadgar, while the other went to stand behind his neck, tilting his head back a little, putting it in the axis that Illidan wanted. The mage's mouth opened automatically and the elf smiled as he pressed his open lips against his and tucked his tongue gently but firmly into the warm lair. He stayed a few moments to appreciate the humidity and the unique taste before it found its place in his own mouth. He then brought it out in Khadgar's cavity, almost tickling his throat before coming back into his. He started his ride over and over again, sinking further and further, deeper into a mage who asked for more and more, opening a mouth larger which seemed never to be satisfied.  
Illidan followed the rhythm of the hands and the member against his, speeding up and slowing down when Khadgar was doing it, deviating from time so that he could catch his breath before plunging back into this lair he never wanted to leave. 

He cracked without warning, without even seeing it coming. His hips moved by themselves in a frantic pace, putting his cock to the torment before releasing a tension too long retained. As all of his muscles contracted and he spilled over Khadgar's hands and stomach, his tongue stiffened and went further down the mage's throat, his teeth scraping his lips a little. For a few seconds, only the stiff muscles of his legs, wings and buttocks moved, covered in spasms, while his mind was emptied of all futile thoughts, only focused on his pleasure.  
He finally let himself slide on his back next to a coughing human struggling to get his breath. 

The orgasm went away, he felt a little ashamed to have come so quickly. And mostly alone. It was actually the first time he had felt guilty for this sort of thing. He groaned and shook his head, not wanting to ask questions yet. 

He turned to Khadgar, who had just sat down, short of breath. His magic and the tension that had gradually built up for him had not gone down, and Illidan decided to help him, again chasing the questions that came and went in his head, analysing the why or how he wanted to please what he saw as mere physical attraction. 

He knelt down in front of the human and made a neglected gesture, removing their clothes and leaving them as naked as the day of their birth. A small concentration of magic in Khadgar's cheeks quickly made him realize that he must be red - almost as much breathlessness as embarrassment. He took his time, admiring the contours of the body of a man aging by magic but who, thanks to it, had managed to stay in shape. A body with a heart overflowing with life, a body he wanted to taste... 

He hesitated for half a second before bending down and placing a light kiss on the rough chin, uncertain as to the procedure to follow. Trembling hands clung to his shoulders and he knew he was on the right track. He traced a kiss path, with soft bites and licks, to the navel of the mage who squirmed under him and sighed so pleasant in his ears, that he felt the heat rise again in him. He shuddered when the hands changed grips and clung to his horns, opening his wings wider in surprise. 

"Illidan... You... By the Titans... Illidan..." 

The navel was also a sensitive place it seemed... His name pronounced in this way was like the sweetest of melodies and made his head spin. He was hot, so hot, and he felt so good...  
He tickled the navel with the tip of his tongue for a few moments before finding himself faced with a new situation - again: the erect and slightly wet cock of the human which was caressing his cheek for a moment now and seemed eager for attentions… He knew what to do - how many mouths had passed on his member during the strange sessions of the Black Temple? - but had never practiced.  
He took a few seconds to soak up the different smells and sensations before bending down and put a tongue that had become hesitant again on this part of the man he had never tasted... A moan more pronounced than the others made him hear and he smiled, his tongue tracing the small veins he felt on sensitive skin. He dared not take it in the mouth, the fear of hurting him with his sharp teeth. 

"Illidan... Oh please... Just... Just a little..." 

The hands involuntarily pressed - or not- on the horns, lowering his head. It was quite strange to be given orders like this for him, but the sighs and contracted muscles he saw was more than satisfactory and made him forget some unpleasant thoughts... He opened his mouth, let his breathing touch the sensitive end before taking it between his lips while being careful not to let a tooth drag.  
The taste was... Strange. Like sweat mixed with... Anything else? However, it was not unpleasant. He sucked a little, vaguely remembering what had been done to him before, holding back a laugh when he heard the strangled sound coming from the mouth of a mage not truly himself anymore. He pushed the member further, letting his tongue drag along, then went up to focus again on the sensitive glans. Khadgar seemed to cling to his horns as to his life while he repeated his name again and again... Illidan continued for a few minutes, alternating rapid movement and pronounced sucking according to his mood before stopping, snatching a curse from this human whose taste and smell would haunt his dreams for nights.  
He then stand up his head, smiled, drooling around the corner of his lips and wiping it carelessly. 

"Can you turn around please?" 

Khadgar didn't hesitate for a second although his cheeks seemed to be on fire. He started to lie on his stomach but Illidan took him by the hips and forced him to kneel, head resting on the sheets, his privacy clearly revealed. The elf did not wait and plunged his head between the buttocks previously spread by his hands, conscientiously licking the little round of flesh that already seemed to pulsate. He left Khadgar no rest and continued his almost culinary activity, which consisted in tasting the most intimate part of the mage to prepare him for being cooked deeply... 

His tongue was already almost a quarter of his size in Khadgar who was only grow more and more noisy and hoarse sighs. He started the same game over a few minutes - or hours? - earlier in his mouth: going in, going out, going ever further in a warm and vibrant lair whose entrance was loosening and tightening more and more quickly. A hand suddenly grabbed the hairs on his thighs, surprising him enough to slow down and then stop. 

This human…. This human was fascinating. Breathtaking. He was neither disgusted with his appearance, nor hateful of his decisions, which many considered to be bad, nor obsessed with his power. He was perfect. 

Illidan kissed a buttock tenderly and caressed the clinging hand of his before resuming activity, slowing the pace without losing its strength. A cry, walls tightening around his tongue and more than tense toes indicated to the demon’s hunter that he had found a very sensitive point. He spreads the two pieces of flesh even more and sank further, tickling this strange little heap of flesh that seemed to show stars to the mage... 

"Deeper... Illidan..." 

He might have had a tongue long and wide compared to the others, but he could not physically go further. He groaned and looked up before quickly summoning a bottle of lubricant, spreading the contents on his member – ready again. He gently stroked the human's sweaty back then grabbed onto his hips, his intentions very clear. 

"Hold on!”

Khadgar stopped him dead and turned around. 

What had he done wrong? Fear, doubt, rejection... In just a second everything came back and hit him, and he mentally prepared himself for the pain he had already experienced and hated before. 

"I want to see you," Khadgar murmured in a hoarse voice, "and I'd like to drink a glass of water if you don't mind," he added, rubbing his throat. 

He smiled at him, his magic filling the room and relief like the one he had never known took up almost all of his energy. A glass of water was handed to him, he took it and drank it in a draft before leaning over to place a light kiss on the rough cheek, his heart pounding. Khadgar swung the two empty glasses over his shoulder before throwing himself on his lips, wrapping his arms around his neck. No words were spoken as they kissed again languidly, the warmth and somewhat calmed desire slowly returning to the charge.  
Still a little groggy with the fear that he had managed to make himself, Illidan let the mage motivate him with an energetic hand while he kissed him with passion, contenting himself with caressing his soft skin and responding to the kiss. This moment of floating only lasted a few moments but he realized that it was necessary: he was able to focus again on Khadgar, his pleasure and the contact of his skin against his. His demons were calm again, his mind calmed.  
He gently pushed the mage and laid him on his back, settling between his legs. Khadgar quickly invoked a cushion and placed it under his back before wrapping his hand around his cock - again lubricating - to guide him. He let himself go and followed the movement, absorbing the vision of a man who offered himself to him with confidence. An intense shiver ran through them when he sank into the warm flesh. Illidan grabbed the trembling hands and crossed their fingers, tracing his stride with the mage's deep breath. 

It was ... Indescribable. The heat, the magic so close to him and caressing more and more his member so hard and greedy, the sighs, the confidence that he read in the gestures and attitudes of the human... Everything was so intense, so good… He was so good that he did not need to force himself to remain calm: he wanted to take his time, to appreciate each inch travelled, each drop of sweat, each groan…  
He began to come and go, sinking further and further with each push. Somewhat tense at first, Khadgar gradually got used to it and began to repel those sighs he loved so much. 

"Illidan, kiss me..." 

Embarrassed by his size, the elf still managed to reconcile kisses and hip blows, passing their tied hands over the head of the human. In this position, he could not go to the end but it was already enough. Maybe the next time they could... His movements intensified as hope invaded him for the first time and he realized at the same time that a simple physical attraction did not justify everything to what he thought. 

"Illidan," gasped Khadgar, breaking the kiss, “faster..."

He obeyed blindly, wishing to satisfy his partner more than anything. More than his own pleasure. 

Shit. He was really in love with this human. 

His movements quickened and he let go of the mage's hands, stroking his wet cock with one and supporting his own weight with the other. He tried various angles before finding what he was looking for: the little heap of sensitive flesh. The screams replaced the sighs as the elf covered the other face with volatile kisses, concentrating not to lose the thread of one of its activities. 

"llidan... Illidan..." 

The sweet melody was back even cut with every thrusts he gave. He appreciated every note, every second... 

A cry. Spasms around his member. Contracted muscles. Hot liquid spilled on his hand. The smell of their sweating and other mixed fluids. An explosion of magic. All his senses were put to use. He savoured this moment like no other, trying to keep every detail in mind. 

Khadgar ends up completely relaxing against him as he lies down against his back, removing his cock out of him at the same time. Their gasping breaths found a more regular rhythm while with his sharp-clawed fingers he traced the outline of the shoulders of a human who had turned his plans upside down. 

"I'm sorry, you didn't... well, you didn't come."  
“It does not matter. Let's just say... You owe me one,” he said hesitantly. 

Khadgar turned around and faced him. He seemed really exhausted but kissed his nose and stroke his cheek before speaking in an already sleepy voice. 

"Yes, next time we will do the opposite ..." 

Illidan smiles before wrapping his arms and wings around the sleeping human. He does not fall asleep, not having the same physiological needs as the other races.  
So he thought about it, wondered who or what he had missed because of this so-called fate he thought he had to fulfil ... If he hadn't convinced himself that he should marry Tyrande, if he had opened his eyes before to this impossible love, perhaps he would have been lucky to know the love he deserved. Because he deserved it. He could love and therefore could be loved. Khadgar was the proof: had he not been a generous lover tonight? He had been attentive, benevolent, gentle and had put the pleasure of the human before his own. His heart was not as closed as he thought... 

"Stop overthinking, you keep me from sleeping..." 

The hoarse voice startled him and he wondered how the little mage could have been... 

"You pat your fingers on any surface as soon as you get lost in your thoughts. This time, my back was the surface”, Khadgar explained while kissing his neck.  
“Sorry”, he replied a bit dryly, not really happy to be decoded so easily. 

Khadgar said nothing and just played with his fingers too, dragging them along his tattoos. 

"Suddenly I was wondering," suddenly began Khadgar in a malicious voice, "you have no more problems with my magic?"  
“You knew from the start that I had no problems?” he asked after a long silence.  
“Yes, I mean I suspected it. It's been... Some time that I was looking for a way to find myself alone with you, without really believing it. I never thought it would end like this this, I just wanted to talk to you. Get to know the real Illidan and not the monster that many describe.”  
“Why?” did he interrupt. “Why do you want to get to know me?” 

The mage remained silent for a short time but did not stop his caresses, although they were more hesitant. 

"Your Illidari. The way they talk about you, your ideas, your convictions. It is so opposite to what Maiev, Malfurion or others say. My curiosity is legendary, so I became interested in you and the more I learned, the more confused I was.” 

Khadgar seemed to be talking to himself but he was listening carefully, all his senses alert, waiting... He didn't know what. But he was waiting. 

"After your rebirth, when you explained your plans to us and why you had accomplished all this, you fascinated me. In the end, after talking about it with the Prophet Velen I realized that I was not only curious about your magic and that I had developed a completely different attraction towards you...”

Illidan almost sighed at the mention of Velen: what exactly was the plan of this weird old draeneï? How far did he go to put Khadgar in his arms? And why? 

Khadgar moved, cutting him for his thoughts and had a little laugh. Illidan appreciated this sound, like all the others. 

"I never thought I would have the right to... I mean, all that.”

As surprising as it may seem, it was not him who had just uttered this sentence but Khadgar. 

"I mean, I'm old. It's the war. I feel like I've only known that: battles, endless war. I never thought I could live a story with anyone.” 

Another sentence he could have said himself. This human would never stop surprising him? Asking himself the same questions, he didn't know what to answer. Instead, he hugged him tightly and kissed his lips gently, feeling vulnerable and powerful at the same time, ridiculous and proud, weak and invincible. Everything was turned upside down. Mixed.  
Finally, he was exhausted too. He let himself go, the human with the beautiful magic against him and decided not to think any more in order to appreciate the moment that he lived, with this mage that he did not want to leave any more. 

In the distance, three Illidari and an old Prophet glanced at each other, proud of what they had accomplished. Kayn still seemed a little worried about the fallout from his lie, but his two accomplices did not seem to care and warmly congratulated Velen who, at the last moment, chose to follow the path of a rather strange, but achievable vision. A vision where two lost souls have to be helped and be reunited…


End file.
